Writers' Block
by Frozen Time
Summary: To Arakawa, inspiration was a fleeting thing. Marui decided to give her a helping hand. -dream novel-
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Writers' Block

**Published: **28 June, 2012

**Author: **Ribbon

**Target:** Marui Bunta

**Default Name: **Arakawa Maiko

**Summary: **To Arakawa, inspiration was a fleeting thing. Marui decided to give her a helping hand. [dream novel]

* * *

**ENTRY #9: PERCEPTION**

_By Arakawa Maiko _

_Recently I've become aware of the power of human obsession. Perhaps, to others, it's more than what I see it as. _

_But the act of writing simply encourages one to share his or her experiences with the world. Is that not what we write for? _

_I don't believe a moral to this story exists. But maybe a perception change will._

_After all, all cats are grey in the dark. People don't have names until we give them one. _

_Acknowledgments to a little bit of an obesessor of my own._

Prologue:

Ideas and opinions are the two things that make us who we are—influence how we perceive the world around us, its inhabitants, and how they act. What strikes our heartstrings and the way it happens defines our personality, and shapes who we are. It shapes our ideals, and our expectations.

What makes us who we are is what we have the ability to control. We have power over our actions and our thoughts, even if only subconsciously. We are aware of the validity of our judgements, but choose to ignore it; the way one is born into the world knowing what justice is like, but chooses to ignore it.

It is from this idea that our judgement goes awry. We tell ourselves what we know, and refuse to acknowledge what it is that we believe. What we perceive is not always true.

Perhaps it was with this knowledge that the basics for human obsession was formed. We cling to the safety of our lies, wanting to believe that they are true, whilst knowing full well that they are not.

However, one could propose that the term 'human obsession' is broad, and divided, too. Only according to our society is the connotation for human obsession looked at like a half-empty glass.

As for the denotation, well, maybe it doesn't exist.

Is human obsession wrong?

Some think not.

Chapter One:

It started with an idea...

**WRITER'S BLOCK**

_Chapter One_

"Hey, Arakawa."

I wasn't sure what it was that made him look at me over the back of his chair with such hungry eyes. Admittedly, as a writer, there might have been some better words I could have used to describe him—words that didn't make him sound like a molester or something equally misleading. It was more so a curious hungry that his eyes reflected, as if he had been offered a job and he intended to finish it.

Granted, that might have been my imagination. Maybe I was reading too much contemporary literature that was written by adults for adults, and spending less and less time with 'friends.' Maybe this was how people commonly talked to each other nowadays.

I took the time to reply with, "Niou. Good morning." Then I promptly turned to begin my English homework set for last night. To my right, my seat mate tapped me on the shoulder and offered his English book in my direction. I gesture my thanks with a brief glance and a smile, and then proceeded to copy.

Niou and my seat mate exchanged a speedy look.

Niou's eyes flew mischievously to the clock and back again. He nodded at my homework. "Time's a-ticking." He drawled.

"Really." I said, hereby uninterested in continuing the conversation. I went back to copying.

Pity Niou wasn't about to give up. "What are you reading this week?"

"Kitchen."

"Sounds boring. By who?"

"Yoshimoto Banana." I said. For a moment, I put my pen down and looked at Niou with full concentration. "Niou, I have a dire favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"Shut up and let me copy this."

"That's so cold, Arakawa." Niou said. I ignored the teasing in his voice and went back to copying.

This time, he let it go. But not before smirking at me, and then at my seat mate.

Reality was a misleading thing.

_- x -_

How one comes up with a story idea always used to puzzle me. In fact, the process still amazes me. Maybe before I started writing _Perceptions_, it was writers' block that stifled my creativity, preventng me from doing what I desperately wanted to. It just seemed to thrive off my pessimism. I'm sure there were more symptoms that I had compared to Wikipedia's article the night before, but very few things stuck while I was reading it.

What was it I needed to get over writers' block?

Well, for starters, a breakthrough would be nice.

My mind wasn't listening—the norm when it caught me trying to cook up a story. This time, it found me atop a bridge overlooking the city, a notebook and pen in my hand. It was coming to the point where I had half a mind to throw the notebook and pen at separate passing cars, but managed to refrain from doing so. I'd have to waste a trip to the convenience store to buy new implements, and perhaps spare some time to get lectures from angry adults.

A waste of time and money—two things I had so little of.

Just when I thought that a burst of inspiration would come to me in my boredom, a guitar tune came to life in my pocket. I frowned. I couldn't be bothered to answer someone who had the nerve to call me in the middle of a crisis. The deadline for _LIT_ magazine's competition entries were set for Sunday next week.

Brilliant. One week to extract an idea from my uselessly distracted mind. I was left screwed.

I'd lost count of the number of years I'd tried to enter in _LIT_'s annual writing competition. I'd write a story in hopes of sending in an entry, only to chicken out the moment the deadline approached. Discouragement ate away at me for the weeks leading up to the competition, so it was no surprise.

I hoped that this year wouldn't result in the same turnout. But either way, I didn't have high hopes for such an expectation.

_All I need is an idea, damn it. _

And so it happened, something answered my plea for inspiration. Naturally, my lack of ideas plagued me so heavily that I didn't hear the sound of an idea coming. In fact, I didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late, and nearly jumped at the sudden appearance of a total stranger beside me.

In the process, I lost my pen and notebook over the edge of the bridge.

Fortunately, the stranger swiped a speedy hand over the railings and caught both objects. He handed them back to me, a friendly look on his face.

I would have been grateful if it hadn't been his fault in the first place.

"Thanks... I think."

"No problem." He said. A bubble of gum ballooned from between his lips. His nonchalant eyes roved over the street I was surveying; no doubt he was curious what business someone like me had up here. "What are you doing up here?"

"Good question."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing's coming to me." In all honesty, a distraction wasn't something entirely welcome—especially not at the moment.

He looked at me, blinking at the vagueness of my sentence. But instead of choosing to respond with something equally as enigmatic, he fished into his pocket.

I inspected it. It was gum.

Then I inspected his face. He blew another bubble of green-colored gum. "Want some?" He offered.

"Thanks, but I'm glucose intolerant." I lied, wondering if gum had glucose in it. I was never one for general knowledge—or common sense, come to think of it.

He blinked, then checked on the back of the pack, most likely looking for the word _'glucose.'_ Eventually, he gave up and pocketed his gum, opting instead to lean against the rail and continue talking to me instead. "So, why isn't anything coming to you?"

"Beats me. Old habits die hard."

"What kind of habit?"

I paused, wondering if I should even be talking to him. "A habit that eats my ideas. It's especially unwelcome when I actually need one, too. Badly."

"What do you need one for?"

I looked at him skeptically. "A story." I said after giving up on staring competitively with him. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious to know why nothing was coming to you."

"I have writers' block."

"Must be rough."

_Figuratively or literally?_ Aloud, I said nothing.

"So what do you need an idea for?"

Ah, he was the type who liked circling back to previous topics. Joy. "To write a story." I repeated.

He turned his gaze to me. "Why don't you observe a random person and make up a life story for them? I do it all the time. It's actually kind of fun."

I had to admit that I did People Watch sometimes. But it was far from amusing. "I had tried that."

"Then, have you taken a lunch break?" He checked his wrist for the time, and then discovered he didn't have one. Using his genius mind, he turned his eyes up to the sky and squinted. "The sun looks a little bit in the middle of the sky, so... it has to be noon...?"

He sounded slighly uncertain.

Not that I believed him in the first place.

"You're looking at it from the wrong angle, and that only works while it's on the equator." I said, reaching into my pocket. I pulled out my phone and showed him the screen. "Here. We have better technology than the medievals did."

He took it and peered at the time. "Eleven-thirty, huh?" For a moment, he just continued to look at it, as though he were fascinated by such a contraption. I was curious to know what was so captivating. When I took hold of his wrist and turned it, all I saw was my display screen.

The stranger eased the phone out of my hand, and God tell me why I didn't stop him. I settled for eyeing him curiously as he started to press buttons on my phone, keeping tracks of his movements, should he run off with it.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

He made a dramatic show of pressing a send button, and when I swiped my phone back to look at the screen, a beep accompanied the dialogue box that greeted my eyes. _'Message sent,'_ it clarified.

I fixed a stare on the stranger. "What did you do?"

"Just a little something." He said. As if on a convenient cue, his own pocket beeped, and, wiggling his fingers, he pulled out a phone of his own. He flipped open the lid and bragged the screen that said, _'(1) new message!'_

My eyebrow slowly went up. "What exactly did you send?"

He opened the message for me, and I almost wished I hadn't asked. My phone number blinked at me on his screen. I tried to swipe for his phone, but wasn't fast enough. He was leaping out of reach, dodging me every time I tried to catch him. After speedily mashing a few buttons on his phone, he flashed a charming smile in my direction and made a peace sign. "Thanks for the message. Now it's lunchtime."

"Wait a minute—"

But he was already off, with a grin and a bubble of gum to remember him by. Having never been a capable runner, I barely made it ten meters before giving up. He was far away, vanishing down the stairwell at the end of the bridge.

I couldn't do anything but stare, wondering if reality really was as bad as I made it out to be.

No, reality was bad like literature was. Just worse.

_- x -_

I gave a luxurious stretch, my shower having been refreshing enough to calm myself. The encounter with the stranger this morning bothered me more and more as the day went on and my mind was never at rest when I wondered what he planned to do with it.

Hopefully nothing I had to worry about.

I sat down in my office chair, quickly checking if any contacts were on messenger before starting to think about what really happened. I opened a blank Word document on my laptop and started to vent about today. Since I was stumped for ideas to elaborate on at the moment, I could make myself useful by ranting about the strange encounter this morning.

Barely three sentences into writing it, I paused.

_Did he say what his name was?_

My gaze wandered to my phone. But I wasn't game to pick it up and text him to ask.

And as if fate were listening to my thoughts, my phone chimed. The ring tone for unknown numbers. I frowned. If that were the case, it could only mean...

Stifling a sigh, I stopped writing and picked up my phone, bracing myself before opening the message.

There was a phone number I didn't recognize written first, followed by, _'It's me, from this morning. Add me.'_

_'Who are you?'_ I replied.

My phone just touched the table before I got a reply. I had to pick it up again. _'Heh. Marui Bunta, genius at your service.'_

_'I don't know you.'_

_'mbtensai .jp. Last text, out of credit.'_

And—_peace_. Pleased with his text, I set down my phone and resumed typing in the document, with Marui's (as I recently found out his name was) few texts driving my inspiration. At least, it was the closest thing to inspiration.

Naturally, now that all my creativity was coming back to me, fate evolved to disrupt that.

When my recap was fully narrated, an instant message popped up. At first, I thought it might have been a contact I hadn't noticed going online, which was the only reason I clicked on it. I regretted doing so.

**GENIUS:** You were a bitch to find.

**MAKKO:** ...

**MAKKO:** How did you find me.

**GENIUS:** I'm a genius. Hah.

Somehow, I doubted that.

**MAKKO:** This is your way of picking up chicks or something? You hussle them for their number on the street and try to creep them out?

**MAKKO:** Because you're doing a great job.

**GENIUS:** Of picking you up?

**MAKKO:** NO. Of creeping me out.

_GENIUS is typing..._

Admittedly, I was a little bit scared. In one day, I'd been stalked in town and then on the net. It was hardly flattering.

**GENIUS:** Hey, just because you don't know me, doesn't mean that I don't know you.

**MAKKO:** You're the creepiest person I've ever met. Has anyone ever told you that.

**GENUIS:** Nope, you're the first.

**MAKKO:** You're bluffing. Who are you again?

**GENIUS:** I'm Marui Bunta. And you're Arakawa Maiko, right?

**MAKKO:** No, I'm Elmo. I'm a furry red critter.

**GENIUS:** Hah. Cute.

**MAKKO:** Like me.

**GENIUS:** I know.

I drew back from the monitor, now sufficiently creeped out.

**GENIUS:** Hey. At least I pay attention to the person who's always trying to copy my English homework every morning. If you're such a lit fan, why don't you just do it yourself?

My first instinct was to close the window and block this person who somehow knew so much about me. But something in my mind was starting to unravel. Something about him seemed a little bit familiar.

He said English homework. Then...

**MAKKO:** Wait. I think I remember you.

**GENIUS:** Just 'think'? Aw, you're making me feel pretty bad. Maybe I shouldn't let you copy my English homework anymore, hey?

I did a mental recap. So this guy was Marui Bunta, who sat next to me and let me copy his English homework every morning. Only now, he was threatening to take away my liberty. Wouldn't be the greatest turnout, especially not with the situation I was in.

Besides, it would be awkward enough, sittin next to him. Walking into homeroom every morning and sitting down next to him would be a haunting reminder of how creepy this Marui Bunta character was.

**GENIUS:** Well, I'm surprised you realized who I was.

**MAKKO:** You sure know how to flatter a girl.

**GENIUS:** Heh. What can I say? I'm a genius.

I hadn't meant it as a compliment.

**GENIUS:** So what are you doing the story for?

Curse his good memory!

**MAKKO:** Why do you want to know?

**GENIUS:** Just curious, since you're always writing away in that notebook of yours.

**GENIUS:** You're pretty good for a high school student, you know.

_Mother of God, how does he know all of this?_

**MAKKO:** How come you're so good at gathering intelligence? Just who are you?

**GENIUS:** Heh, I'm a genius.

**MAKKO:** I'm left in doubt.

It came to the point where I was desperately searching for the best excuse I could think of at the time to get out of the conversation. I needed something that I didn't disallow me from getting answers for English homework tomorrow. Just to check if my answers were right or not.

**MAKKO:** I need to do my English homework.

**GENIUS:** Well, you can just copy mine on Monday. The teacher never notices anyway, right?

Bad excuse.

**MAKKO:** And I need to write my story.

**GENIUS:** I'll help you.

I was about to instantly say 'no.' But I was quick to reconsider.

**MAKKO:** How can I trust that you'll be helpful?

**GENIUS:** Hang on a second.

There was a lull.

**GENIUS:** What do you need to know?

**GENIUS:** Genre, theme, writing style, etc.

I was slightly impressed. Maybe a little bit more than that.

_Wow. Maybe he actually can be of help of to me._

**MAKKO:** Let's start with a girl's name. First and last.

The lulls between his messages were becoming more and more noticeable, and I was starting to doubt his credibility. I hoped he wasn't using Seventh Sanctum or something to generate ideas.

**GENIUS:** Shiraga Kotone.

**MAKKO:** Give me a loose idea.

**GENIUS:** How about a quote?

**MAKKO:** Sure.

**GENIUS:** "All things grow with time—except grief."

**MAKKO:** Sorry, I'm not into tragedy.

**GENIUS:** Give me a genre.

**MAKKO:** Contemporary.

**GENIUS:** Flowers.

**MAKKO:** ...What?

**GENIUS:** Ideas don't always make a story. All you need is an object, theme, quote, scenario, etc. to center a contemporary story around. It's a wonder you haven't learned from _Kitchen_ yet.

How did Marui know that I was reading _Kitchen_? I only recalled telling Niou that. Granted, he could have overheard... but...

Now that I thought about it, Marui's writing seemed a lot more blunt, and significantly less cheerful than it had been a moment ago. As I read over our conversation, it occurred to me that Marui had turned bipolar from the moment he volunteered to help me. His writing had lost its perk.

I paused, considering the unrealistic thought that was running through my head.

Could there be the remote possibility that it was Niou on the other end of the line rather than Marui?

**MAKKO:** Who did you say you were again?

There was a pause. Was Niou scrolling up to look at the conversation that Marui and I had before? To take advantage of the time he was waiting, I decided to scroll up and scan some of the former small talk I'd exchanged with Marui. It was almost obvious that Marui and Niou were two different people. While it was commendable that the both of them typed properly, there was a clear difference between the two: Marui was more easygoing, pepping his speech with little interjections and adding character to his speech, whereas Niou spoke with blunt authority.

That was just like him. He always spoke like he needed to get a job done.

**GENIUS:** You said you remembered me.

**MAKKO:** Just vaguely.

**GENIUS:** I'm Marui Bunta. Local genius.

The creeping suspicion didn't go away as I tickled keyboard keys, hoping for something witty to come to me.

And luckily, an idea hit me. It would have been amazing if it was a story idea rather than a lame plan to differentiate between Niou and Marui for certain, but it was welcome all the same.

**MAKKO:** Okay. I'll try to write something about 'flowers.' I have a favor to ask, though.

**GENIUS:** Shoot.

So... Niou was in Marui's account? What on earth for?

_- x -_

Niou was close to laughing. If Marui had paid him a little more, maybe he would have tried to make more of an effort acting like the genius.

Ah well. It wouldn't have been any fun if Arakawa wasn't such a shrewd bastard.

_- x -_

I stared at the computer screen for a while, wondering how to respond to something like that. I settled for burning the picture into my memory before slowly resuming the conversation.

**MAKKO:** Tell me how you know so much about me.

**GENIUS:** Facebook.

_Damn it. I knew joining Facebook wasn't a good idea._

**GENIUS:** The novel _Kitchen_ revolves around the significance of a kitchen in Mikage's life. Everything about the book threads back to the kitchen itself. Why not just pick an object and write a story based around it? Contemp. stories usually use themes and motifs to keep the flow going.

**GENIUS:** If you don't want to do flowers, then there's always something else I can suggest. You might like, "All cats are grey in the dark."

**MAKKO:** What does that mean?

**GENIUS:** "People are undistinguishable until they have a name."

I blinked, considering the idea, and then considering the idea that Marui's morning encounter had given me. The two blended together in an odd sort of way.

**MAKKO:** I like that.

A pause.

**GENIUS:** So was I helpful? Heh.

And suddenly his writing was perkier again. Curious. Then was it safe to assume that I was back to talking with Marui?

I decided to humor the guy.

**MAKKO:** Sure. Pretty impressive for someone like you.

**GENIUS:** Hey! What's that supposed to mean? Hah.

**MAKKO:** Nothing.

**MAKKO:** Anyway, I should work on my story now. Signing out for tonight.

**GENIUS:** Hmm? You're not staying on?

**MAKKO:** I'll get too distracted when anything but a word processor is opened up on my computer. I'll be tempted to reply if you keep writing.

**GENIUS:** You'd be expectantly waiting for them to come, huh?

_MAKKO_ _has signed out._

It came as a relief to escape Marui and Niou's clutches. I felt like I was a witness under uncomfortable questioning, talking to a two-faced person. But it was hardly more of a relief that I had one day left before I had to see their faces again. I got the feeling that over the weekends, I would get no work done.

Sighing at tonight's conversation, I closed down every window except Word. I opened up a new document and typed 'flowers' at the top of the page, hoping it would serve as some sort of inspiration for my poorly idea-deprived brain. As expected, nothing came to me.

Despite my honest efforts to write a contemporary short story, my attention kept wandering to the unsaved document with my recount of today's bizareness, from my first encounter with a stranger who just happened to be my seatmate.

I frowned. That wasn't a coincidence. It was stalking.

Once the morning on the bridge was recounted, I headed my document up with the quote, 'All cats are grey in the dark.' An explanation of the quote followed it.

Then I saved and moved onto the conversation part.

I signed back in as invisible, in case Marui was online. He didn't appear to be, but he could well be invisible, too, waiting to spring on me in case I came back on. It wasn't likely, but as today had proved, everything was unpredictable when it came to Marui.

I was greeted with his offline message of, _'Aw, come on! Don't be so heartless!' _

Heartless my foot.

It was once I had the conversation copied and saved did I decide that the 'flowers' idea was not my forte. In all honesty, the idea of human obession would be much easier for me to write, especially since Niou's other suggestion would be easy enough to incorporate.

And to—with my decision fitfully made, I went back and started to flesh out my experiences with Marui, including the fact that I regularly copied his English homework and my suspicions that I had been talking to Niou rather than Marui tonight.

Halfway through, I drew to a halt, unsure of what I was doing. I was basically recounting the events with Marui, not necessarily writing a contemporary story.

_Err... is this a good thing?_

I paused.

Slowly, I resumed typing the recount.

_- x -_

On Sunday morning, I signed into messenger as available. I was immedicately met with a message Marui must have sent to me after I copied the conversation in.

**GENIUS:** Well, good night.

So he _had_ been invisible last night.

I was just as immediately met with a message from Marui, who was online.

**GENIUS:** Morning, sunshine.

**MAKKO:** Elmo, methinks.

**GENIUS:** Lemme try again.

**GENIUS:** Morning, Elmo. How flows the story?

**MAKKO:** I'm not sure if 'flows' is the right way to put it. But now that you ask, not too badly. I've got a loose idea.

**GENIUS:** Thanks to me? Hah.

**MAKKO:** Partially.

In actual fact, Niou had done nothing for me except provide a nice few complications for the story, one of them harnessing the quote he sent me. And perhaps the name, too, if I didn't end up thinking of one better than Shiraga Kotone. I wondered briefly how disappointed Marui and Niou would be, should they find out about my new idea and that they were actually the basis for my entry.

**MAKKO:** You done your English homework yet?

**GENIUS:** Yep. Do you need the answers?

**MAKKO:** Please.

The answers for the English homework started popping up one by one. I pulled out my own answer sheet from under a pile of books and started writing in the answers.

It didn't take long for him to finish posting, or for me to finish copying.

**GENIUS:** Done?

**MAKKO:** Yeah.

**GENIUS:** Cool beans.

I squinted at the screen to make sure I'd read that right.

**MAKKO:** Did you just say 'cool beans'?

**GENIUS:** Sure I did. Problem?

**MAKKO:** Such the troll.

**GENIUS:** You learn something new about me every day. Heh.

I typed out a nonchalant reply in response. But my mind wasn't with the keys. Marui's post had been thought-provoking. Now that I thought about it, Marui (and Niou) knew more about me than I did about him. Them. Well, realistically, Niou was out of the question. Considering the circumstances, it just seemed like Niou was doing Marui's dirty work. Maybe that was the reason 'Marui' had been so proficient at gathering intelligence about me. Niou was the only one who ever asked me things.

And for what?

When I logged into Facebook for the day, invisible as I usually was, I found a friend request waiting for me. It shouldn't have been surprising that it was Marui.

Strangely, too, I found it somewhat accomplishing that I now had access to Marui's profile. It made me feel like a creep myself, but that was the least of my worries. (In fact, I didn't even think it was one.) Maybe I could use this to find dirt on him, or for a plot idea. I scribed down an account of my morning so far, then accepted the friend request.

Moments later, an instant message from Marui popped up.

**GENIUS:** Finally accepted my friend request, eh?

**MAKKO:** I thought I should do my homework on you, dirt and all.

**GENIUS:** Aw, that's sweet of you. Too bad for you I don't put confidential pictures of you on my Facebook. Otherwise all my rabid fans would be blackmailing me to go out with them. Hah.

How bold.

**MAKKO:** Why don't you?

**GENIUS:** Mmm. I already like someone.

_Wow. Really?_

He had a crush on someone else, eh? How hadn't I heard of this until now?

To be completely honest, I felt a little bit of self-doubting at that.

**MAKKO:** Who is it?

**GENIUS:** Hah! As if I'd tell you!

I was put off by that comment.

**MAKKO:** What does that mean?

**GENIUS:** Nothing! Heh.

**MAKKO:** I'm not going to tell anyone.

**GENIUS:** They all say that! Hah.

**MAKKO:** I won't. In fact, I'll probably forget as soon as you tell me.

**GENIUS:** Trust me, you wouldn't. Heh.

**GENIUS:** Why do you want to know so badly? Maybe you're jealous?

That struck me, for some reason.

**MAKKO:** As if.

**GENIUS:** Woe is me! Heh.

**MAKKO:** You had it coming.

It was barely an hour and I'd had enough of talking to him for one day.

**MAKKO:** Hey. I have to get back to work.

**GENIUS:** Hmm? Why not stay on? I can help you again.

**MAKKO:** That's alright. I work better offline. But thanks anyways.

**GENIUS:** Suit yourself. Log on later.

**MAKKO:** Hm. I'll try.

_MAKKO_ had signed out.

Contradictory to what I said, I was not going back to work just yet, no matter how imperative it probably was. Rather, I opened up the window to Marui's profile, sifting through the information. I learned a significant amount about him, considering I previously didn't know more about him than his class number. It was fair to say that I got a shock when I found out he was in the tennis club.

I got even more of a shock when I found out that Marui had a fan club. A huge one. With hundreds of members.

I stumbled across it accidentally when I opened up Niou's profile, having low hopes in finding any dirt on the trickster, but motivated (for the moment) to try regardless. That was when I found out he had joined the 'Marui Bunta Fan Club' with several exclamation points following it.

That made me twitch a little, as it did most writers.

The profile wall was littered with love confessions, shameless groveling and 'can I meet you here' posts. I scrolled over most of them, trying not to sigh at the stupidity of most girls my age. Marui, of course, had responded to none of them.

That was, except one.

**Niou Masaharu:** Marui-sama! Can I have your autograph? I want to marry you!

**Marui Bunta:** Go to hell.

Then I found more in the same conversation.

**Kirihara Akaya:** Marui-sama, why would you ever look at that bastard from post one? You should pick me! I'll make bento and cake for you every day, and I'll always be there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on! You cry a lot anyway, so I thought I'd man up for you.

**Akutagawa Jirou:** Marui-kun! I want to be your friend!

**Yukimura Seiichi:** Dear Marui-sama, I'm a twelve-year old girl suffering from cancer in a hospital. The doctors expect I may not live. What would make me the happiest person in the world was if you married me. I'd love for you to visit me every single day in the hospital. Please don't accept the hand of any other girl! I'll be waiting. All my love, Seiichi.

**Marui Bunta:** I hope you all die in a hole.

**Jackal Kuwahara:** Marui, you still owe me. Cash.

**Marui Bunta:** Why do you need to post that _here_?

**Jackal Kuwahara:** You never remember anywhere else I post it.

**Kirihara Akaya:** That's a lie! He's a fan, just like the rest of us! And also because publicity is your worst enemy. Take note, fangirls.

**Yukimura Seiichi:** Note taken. (:

I started to laugh.

Unable to resist, I started a new conversation, so as to not interfere Marui's other old friends.

**Arakawa Maiko:** Curious. So this is what popularity does to a person.

I minimized the window and went back to my recount. But, as usual, it wasn't long before I heard a Facebook alert, meaning that Marui was online. Brilliant.

**Marui Bunta:** Hey, you liar! You said you went off to work! Come to post a love confession?

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to post _right_ that moment.

_Guess there's no escaping it now. _

**Arakawa** **Maiko:** Who, me? I just got distracted by Facebook and Tumblr is all. I would never want to make your crush jealous now, would I?

Facebook was the distraction at the time. Tumblr was a lie.

After barely typing two more sentences into my recount document, there was another alert.

**Marui Bunta:** Hah, she wouldn't be. Trust me.

I didn't reply after that, partially to be able to work dedicatedly, and partially to consider what exactly Marui meant by that.

* * *

**Princo & Ribbon**

_July 14, 2012._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Writers' Block

**Published: **29 June, 2012**  
**

**Author: **Ribbon**  
**

**Target:** Marui Bunta

**Default Name: **Arakawa Maiko

**Summary: **To Arakawa, inspiration was a fleeting thing. Marui decided to give her a helping hand. [dream novel]

* * *

**WRITER'S BLOCK: **_Chapter Two_

"Morning, Elmo."

I looked over at Marui, who had a kind of subtle grin on his face as he watched me—if that was the right way to put it. I sat down, putting my satchel at the foot of my desk, and promptly moving my chair as close to the window as possible. "Morning, Marui."

Marui didn't seem affected by the distance. He just moved his chair closer. "So, how's the story going?"

If I moved any further along I might have fallen out the window. Wouldn't have been the best idea. "Great."

"The flowers idea working for you?"

"No. I gave up on that."

"Oh yeah." If he was disappointed—which he probably wasn't—he masked it well. "What did you decide to write about instead?"

I dropped a very obvious hint in saying, "Human obsession."

"Sounds more dark than contemporary."

"It's light. Trust me."

Marui tilted his heat at me, the very image of a cat looking at its master. Still, his body language gave away nothing. "How far have you gotten?"

"I was writing all weekend. I nearly finished the draft, so I just need to write an ending and edit."

He gave a low, seemingly impressed whistle. "That's dedication."

"Is that a compliment or not?"

Niou, who at that point had walked into the classroom with a can of hot coffee, slipped into the conversation with the smoothness of a con artist. He sat down on his chair, crossing his legs and taking a sip of coffee. "You decide." He said to me. "While we're on the subject, how's the story going?"

_That wasn't on the subject._

"I'm not going to repeat myself to you. Not you."

"That was cold, Arakawa."

"A chill a day keeps Niou away."

"You're not like this to Marui."

"Marui's not a bastard." I said. "He's just a totally harmless creep."

Marui looked accomplished. "Totally harmless creep, hey? So since I'm not a bastard, that means I get to read your story, right?"

That made me pause.

At first, I genuinely considered it—it was the least I could do for him, seeing as he 'inspired me.' But when I started to think of how I'd based it off all our encounters, I immediately changed my mind.

On top of that, I felt insecure at the thought of someone else reading my work. I knew that someday, it might have had to be read, but maybe that would be when I could actually write. Since a passing comment I received at six years old, courtesy of my father, not even my family was allowed three feet near my stories. I suppose it subconsciously influenced my mindset, and even though I knew creative criticism was for the better, it was always hard for me to accept.

It was that fear of failure, just like all writers had.

Maybe it was just a bad habit on my part. Maybe that was the reason I got writers' block so often.

"Hey." Marui was waving a hand in front of my face. I snapped out of my daze. "What's cookin'? You blanked out for a second."

"You're all pale." Niou drawled. He had a smirk on his face.

Since I didn't have a close-hand weapon to resort to, I took out my English book and slapped Niou over the head with it.

Marui was stifling his laughter. Niou just had that lazy, apathetic look on his face, as if being hit didn't even faze him. (Actually, knowing Niou, it probably didn't faze him at all.)

I turned to Marui. "No."

He sobered. "No what?"

"No. You can't read my draft."

"That's cool. I'll just read the final."

"You can't read the final."

"Aw, why not? I helped you."

"I didn't even use your flowers idea. I'm not really entitled to show you my work."

"You should do it because it's a nice thing to do." Marui commented. "So? Can I read it?"

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"Come on, or I won't let you copy my English homework."

"Maybe next time I'll put more of an effort into doing it."

Marui paused for a moment. It was surprising to register the smallest of changes in his face. Even if it was only small, the defeat was impossible to miss. "If you say so." He said with a shrug. I paused, wondering if I should apologize for being so blunt or just leave him alone, until the opening door cut short my speech. As the teacher walked into the room, trying to control the papers that were falling out everywhere, I put my seat back to normal and gave up trying to please Marui.

"Sorry I'm late. Let me mark the roll first... Arakawa-san?"

"Here." I said.

As he marked me off the roll and moved on, Niou turned around with a smug look on his face, quirking his eyebrows at Marui, and then at me. "Ooo..."

I glared at him, but chose not to react. As I leaned back in my chair, I briefly considered the go with Marui's facial expression. He was disappointed, yeah. But why should I have cared?

I stifled a sigh. Maybe I was safe for now. But I still felt bad.

* * *

I signed into messenger on Wednesday night. It was the third time in a row that I had signed in on a school night as available, and had Marui not talk to me once. It didn't say he was online, but he could have been invisible.

He hadn't responded to my last message on Facebook, either. I guessed that he was ignoring me after all.

Unfortunately, Marui's lack of attention caused a singing curiosity from another.

**PURI: **Oooo.

The popup came while I was agonizing over an ending for Perceptions. Insofar I'd edited and rewritten what I had of the story once, but the end of the story just baffled me completely. Contemporary stories were usually deprived of cataclysmic, heart-racing endings. It was more of a simple resolution of the complication at hand.

The only problem with me was, each time I tried to write a simple ending—by my definition, at least—I felt it was too weak and lacked any kind of fluff. I gave up eventually.

Conveniently enough, it was the time Niou decided to initiate a chat: one that I was reluctant to be involved it, but God knew why I replied anyway.

**MAKKO: **Why are you on at this ungodly hour?

It was nearly two in the morning.

**PURI: **Same to you.

**MAKKO: **Huh. Had too much coffee again?

**PURI: **Assumptions, assumptions. How's the story?

**MAKKO: **Great.

_I'm doing a fantastic job of screwing it up._

**PURI: **What's your definition of 'great'?

_Damn it._

**MAKKO: **Just never mind.

**PURI: **Ooooooo.

**MAKKO: **I'll block you.

**PURI: **And I can hack into your account and unblock me.

**MAKKO: **So that's why you hacked into Marui's account, is it?

**PURI: **Accusations, accusations. You got any proof?

**MAKKO: **Sheesh, I think you already know. You were the one helping me that night—not Marui. You're the only one who says 'shoot' in place of 'go for it.' Besides, Marui always peps his speech with 'eh?' and 'hah.' And he says 'cool beans.' He sounds a lot cuter than you.

There was a short pause.

**PURI: **He'll be pleased to hear that.

**MAKKO: **I just said he's cuter than you. Anyone can be cuter than you. He's still a creep.

I was beginning to think Niou had taken it the wrong way. I hoped not; I didn't think I liked Marui like that. I didn't even know him.

So I changed the subject.

**MAKKO: **But you admit to being 'Marui' last time?

**PURI: **Puri.

**MAKKO: **I'll take that as a yes...

**MAKKO: **Why did you have to go into his account?

**PURI: **Because he asked me to.

**MAKKO: **Why did he ask you to?

**PURI: **Why don't you ask him that?

**MAKKO: **Are you planning on answering all my questions with questions?

**PURI: **Why don't you take a stab at it?

**MAKKO: **No thanks. That's why I asked.

**PURI: **Why don't you ask Marui?

**MAKKO: **Niou. Really.

**PURI: **It was fun while it lasted.

I didn't know what to say in response to that. Apparently, neither did Niou.

He decided to loop back to a former topic. Brilliant.

**PURI: **Just ask Marui.

**MAKKO: **I think he's ignoring me.

**PURI: **Why?

**MAKKO: **How should I know? You're his friend.

**PURI: **You're hilarious.

**PURI: **In case you didn't notice, you sit next to him.

**MAKKO: **But I don't talk to him much.

**PURI: **You seem to a lot lately.

That made me blink. Did I really?

I thought I said no more than the average greeting. True, there were times that our instant messages got out of hand, but that was only over the course of a few hours. Marui had been paying zero attention to me since Monday.

**MAKKO: **I don't know. He seemed sore when I said he couldn't read my story.

**PURI: **Let's be honest here. He's been waiting to read that ever since he found out you write stories.

**MAKKO: **When was that?

**PURI: **Try the beginning of the school year.

That was about four months ago.

**MAKKO: **Seriously? I didn't even know who he was back then.

**PURI: **That's pretty sad. You've been copying his homework since May.

**MAKKO: **How do you know that?

**PURI: **I didn't until he told me.

**MAKKO: **... Has he seriously been keeping track?

Maybe Marui was more of a creep than I had initially made him out to be. Exactly how long had he been watching me like that?

**MAKKO: **Why is he paying so much attention to me?

**PURI: **I'm shocked you haven't realized it.

**MAKKO: **Realized what?

**PURI: **Ask Marui.

**MAKKO: **I don't need to. I can ask you.

_Puri has signed out._

**MAKKO: **Coward!

I leaned back in my chair, trying to process the conversation. My own curiosity bothered me, even once I'd moved on and started writing a recount of tonight's conversation with Niou. Maybe it would help me come up with an ending.

Once I was done, I scrolled back to the top of the document and started to revise, my dissatisfaction ever-present as I read over my work. As words started to swim and elude my eyes, I felt a kind of misery taking over. The more I read, the less worthy I felt of sending a submission into the competition_._

I was beginning to reconsider sending in an entry.

Maybe I should just scrap it and try again next year.

* * *

After school that Friday, I decided to make amends with Marui and somehow (possibly) break the news that I wasn't going to enter the competition after all. I told him to wait for me before leaving, and no doubt he was surprised that I was even suggesting such a thing.

Either way, he didn't argue. He just waited for me to pack up my notebooks and pencil case.

"Why the change in heart?" He asked.

I looked briefly up at him. "No reason."

If he was curious, he didn't ask–just patiently waited for me to finish packing up. When I had my satchel tidied, I signaled towards the door, and the two of us left the classroom without a word. The silence hung over us until we reached the locker rooms and changed into our outdoor shoes. Marui took his time in changing his, but I was in a rush for mine.

"What's the hurry?" He asked as I stuffed my slippers in my locker.

"No reason." I said once I'd gotten them on. He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Are you feeling alright this afternoon?" Marui reached out and put a hand on my forehead, then felt my cheeks. "You don't have a fever, at least."

Embarrassed by the few stares I got, I managed to get a grip and pull myself away from this touch. "I'm... I'm fine." The color in my face faded when I saw a grin forming on Marui's face. "What is it?"

"You have really soft skin." He said.

I didn't know how to respond to that. I decided to settle for a quick smile and moved on. He watched me with subtle interest as I pulled something out of my satchel and handed it to him. "Here. A present."

"A present? For me?"

"Yeah. Think of it what you will." I said, shutting my satchel and rising to my feet. Marui was about to, until he realized that he didn't even have his outside shoes on yet. He hurriedly tried to put them on, but I made sure to rush out while I had the chance. "Maybe you could help me with an ending—_your_ help this time. Hope you have a good weekend."

Then, to put it in the words of a theatrical writer, I ran, leaving my half-finished manuscript in his hands. It wasn't like I was going to submit it to _LIT_, so I decided ultimately to print it out and give it to him—ask for his opinion on it. (His–not Niou's.) Maybe he could help me satisfy myself.

I braced myself the moment I ran out of the locker room's stuffy atmosphere and into the open air.

* * *

I didn't go on the computer at all on the weekend. The deadline was tomorrow, but by this time, I'd given up. I thought Marui had, too, now that I had finally given him the manuscript. Apparently, I judged him too quickly.

Having given Marui a ring tone between Saturday and Sunday, I gave him the only song I hadn't given to someone already. I actually hadn't wanted to give it to anyone—wanted to save it for something else—but it was the only one I had left. Following that logic, he ended up with my favorite so.

I was minding my own business—for once—when Pocketful of Stars started to play.

At first I thought it was in my head. Then I realized it was actually coming from my desk. I sat up, realizing it was my phone, and of all things, chose to leap off the bed and hurry over to it.

Sure enough, it was Marui.

I answered it. "Marui?"

_"Why aren't you on messenger or Facebook?"_

"Well... I'm not _always _on them."

_"Yeah you are."_

I frowned at that. "Give me a second." I said, pulling out the chair and booting up my computer. "I'll be on soon."

_"Cool beans."_

Then he hung up.

When my computer was up and running, I signed onto messenger and found several offline messages waiting for me, most of which were prompting me if I was on and telling me to hurry up and reply. He must have discovered eventually that I was offline, not invisible, and decided to call me.

I wrote a quick greeting.

**MAKKO: **Hey. Are you still there?

**GENIUS: **As always. Heh.

**MAKKO: **I'm not talking to Niou?

**GENIUS: **Aw, now why would that be?

**MAKKO: **Only Niou says 'shoot' and talks like he owns the world.

**GENIUS: **Plus, I talk cuter than him. Heh.

I stopped. _Mother of God, Niou, why did you tell him?_

**MAKKO: **Did Niou tell you that?

**GENIUS: **So you admit to saying that you thought I was cute?

**MAKKO: **Just for the record, I only said you call cuter _than_ Niou. Anyone can be cuter than Niou. That doesn't necessarily mean I think you're cute.

**GENIUS: **I'm chuffed that you think I'm cute, Elmo! Pepping my speech with 'heh' and 'aw.' And how you think it's cute how I say 'cool beans.'

Only half of that was true.

**MAKKO: **Just how much did he say?

**GENIUS: **Everything.

**MAKKO: **...

**GENIUS: **So it's true that you like, too?

I did a double take.

**MAKKO: **What?

**GENIUS: **That's what Niou said. Hah.

**MAKKO: **I admit to saying the other things, but 'liking you' is something that I definitely didn't say.

**GENIUS: **Niou said that you did.

**MAKKO: **You trust his word over mine? Really?

**GENIUS: **Hmm, what can I say?

**MAKKO: **That you trust I didn't say that.

**GENIUS: **Aw, fine. I'll trust that.

**MAKKO: **You don't sound very convincing.

**GENIUS: **Heh. don't let it get you down.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow.

**MAKKO: **What did you ask me to log on for?

**GENIUS: **Aw, I was just getting lonely.

**MAKKO: **Give me a legit excuse or I'll sign out in five.

**GENIUS: **Minutes?

**MAKKO: **Seconds.

**GENIUS: **A legit excuse, huh? Heh. Because I love you!

I stopped, staring at the screen. This was Marui I was talking about. Marui who had just shouted out a love confession. Right. Did that mean he was serious, or was it a joke, just like everything else he said?

Though I had to admit: I did feel a little anxious.

**MAKKO: **That was a very funny joke.

**GENIUS: **Wasn't it?

I frowned.

_Okay... so it must have been a joke. Did he have a reason for saying that out of... all the other things he could have said?_

**MAKKO: **There has to be a _real_ reason.

**GENIUS: **So cruel! That was a real reason! Heh.

**GENIUS: **I just wanted to transfer your manuscript to you. I'd email it, but I wanted to make sure you got it.

He sent a file transfer called Perceptions. I blinked.

**GENIUS: **I just suggested a few things and did a bit of rambling. Only ending I could think of that wasn't in excess, but hopefully it's some progress, eh? An inspiration jogger.

I must have forgotten to tell him that I gave up, and that the manuscript was only for kicks and perhaps a learning experience. So I declined the file transfer.

**MAKKO: **Marui, I gave up on trying to enter.

**GENIUS: **What? Why? What's with the manuscript, then?

**MAKKO: **I don't know. I thought it might be a learning lesson for next time. Besides, I'm nearly out of time. The entries are due on Sunday.

**GENIUS: **You always stay up late at night. We can finish it together and send it in for the deadline tomorrow.

His use of 'together' made me pause.

Then he sent me the transfer again. I declined it again.

**MAKKO: **Can you just give me verbal feedback?

**GENIUS: **Why?

**MAKKO: **Kind of makes it less painful.

**GENIUS: **But you've worked really hard. No point in giving up now.

Transfer approval pending. Decline.

**MAKKO: **Not really. I think it's stupid.

**GENIUS: **You mean your story?

**MAKKO: **What else?

**GENIUS: **It's not stupid. It's good. You're saying I worked my ass off for nothing? You're saying that little foreword you wrote was for nothing?

Yikes, how embarrassing. I'd written the foreword under a surge of inspiration and meant to delete it once its muse had been exhausted. Marui had read it, then? Brilliant. Just brilliant.

**MAKKO: **Sorry. I'll make amends.

**GENIUS: **How?

**MAKKO: **I don't know. How much do people usually earn an hour?

There was a pause. Then the file transfer popped up again.

**GENIUS: **You're not going to pay me.

This time, I didn't decline the file. I just let it sit there.

**MAKKO: **You owe some guy called Jackal some money, right? You can pay it back. You deserve it.

**GENIUS: **How would you know? You haven't read it yet. Accept the file.

A pause. I reluctantly scrolled up and looked at the transfer.

Then Marui posted, and I had to scroll back down.

**GENIUS: **Okay. Let's just say _hypothetically_ that I let your lack of determination slide. Which I wouldn't. But if I did, so what? That doesn't mean you can't read the ending anyway.

He had a point. I scrolled back up to the file transfer, my mouse hovering over the accept button. It couldn't hurt, right? Not everyone thought the way my dad it. It wouldn't matter... it was just Marui. Totally harmless, creepy Marui.

I clicked accept.

I scrolled back down to where Marui had written another message:

**GENIUS: **Do it, do it!

Then he realized that I'd accepted.

**GENIUS: **Heh. Score!

When the file finished loading and I opened it, one look at it told me that Marui was no ordinary guy. He had nicely fitted the language to flow in an artistic way, and it made me wonder how he said I wasn't bad when he himself was... well, a genius. I briefly wondered if Niou had done Marui's work for him, but just as soon realized that Niou wasn't talented enough.

It surprised me that I was actually taken in by the words on the page. The story didn't seem as bad as I had made it out to be.

**GENIUS: **So, how is it?

**MAKKO: **Let me finish. Give me an hour or more.

**GENIUS: **Sure, I can do that. I'll be waiting!

I remember when I first debated giving Marui my useless manuscript, I thought perhaps it would be too embarrassing to send him anything. After all, I had based the story entirely on my experiences with Marui. Oh, I'd changed the atmosphere, the characters' maturity levels, and the depth of the protagonist's plight. Now, I was glad I decided to give up on trying to convince myself it was bad, and just take the brunt of whatever criticism Marui had to throw at me.

He took everything I'd written (and implied) better than I expected. If anything, he seemed to be going along with it, as if he had been on the same wavelength as me all along.

Upon reaching the ending of the story, I was surprised at how in-character everything seemed, despite the fluff. It was such a simple ending, with the way the deuteragonist proposed 'love' as a challenge, and the protagonist rose to the bait and accepted. It was slightly cheesy, but considering this was a contemporary novel, that was as welcome as any other ending. Nothing wrong with a happy ending every once in a while.

Besides, Marui had added a nice touch to it. He ended up the perfect tone.

**MAKKO: **Mind-blown.

**GENIUS:** See? I knew you'd like it.

I laughed.

**MAKKO: **Hahaha. Thanks.

There was a bit of a lull.

**GENIUS: **Want to do a voice call?

**MAKKO: **What? Why?

**GENIUS: **I want to hear you laugh. Heh.

Was he joking again? I didn't know. I was coloring rapidly.

So that basically ruled out the already-slim chances that I was going to do a voice call with him.

**MAKKO: **No chance.

**GENIUS: **Aw, why not? You said you were going to make amends.

**MAKKO: **Not _that_ kind of amend.

**GENIUS: **Damn. Hah.

**GENIUS: **So are you going to send it in?

**MAKKO: **Maru, I already said I wasn't going to.

Pity I didn't notice my typo before I hit enter. I quickly corrected myself.

**MAKKO: **Sorry, that was a typo. I meant Marui.

**MAKKO: **But by all means take offense to the fact that I more or less called you a circle.

**GENIUS: **Aw, that's so cruel! I may eat lots, but I burn it all through tennis. I'm thin.

**GENIUS: **But you can call me Maru if you really want to. Heh.

I don't know why I even considered it.

**MAKKO: **Thanks, but I'll pass.

Marui didn't press it.

**GENIUS: **So how come you won't send it in? You admitted you liked it, right?

**MAKKO: **I really did. But it was your work. I can't take credit for that.

**GENIUS: **Sure you can.

**MAKKO: **No way. I couldn't do that.

**GENIUS: **You can. You copy my answers for English all the time. What's the difference?

**MAKKO: **Maybe the fact that the story may end up in a lit mag read by hundreds and thousands of people. I'd feel guilty having my name printed there when you did most of the work.

**GENIUS: **I did just as much as you did.

**GENIUS: **Say, I have an idea. Why don't we enter as a partnership, then? Heh.

I blinked. That was a pretty good idea.

**MAKKO: **A partnership, huh?

**GENIUS: **Yeah, we could come up with a pen name, or combine our names or something. Like Marui Maiko. Heh.

**MAKKO: **You say it like I'm married to you.

**GENIUS: **So?

**MAKKO: **You mean you're _okay_ with that?

My face was a fiery shade of red.

**GENIUS: **Well, why not?

**MAKKO: **Why so? Your crush will be insanely jealous.

**GENIUS: **Psh, no she won't.

**MAKKO: **Marui, you're beginning to creep me out.

**MAKKO: **Again.

**GENIUS: **Heh. Fine.

**GENIUS: **So what do you say?

**MAKKO: **To what?

I don't know why I said that, but it came out anyway. I could have crawled into my bed from the shame of all my experiences with Marui.

Too late now.

**MAKKO: **I mean, no. Sorry.

**MAKKO: **But thanks anyway. I... guess.

_Makko has signed out._

* * *

**- Princo & Ribbon. **14th July, '12. **-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Writers' Block

**Published: **29 June, 2012**  
**

**Author: **Ribbon**  
**

**Target:** Marui Bunta

**Default Name: **Arakawa Maiko

**Summary: **To Arakawa, inspiration was a fleeting thing. Marui decided to give her a helping hand. [dream novel]

* * *

**WRITER'S BLOCK: **_Chapter Three_

I expected Marui to be ignoring me on Monday morning. To my surprise, he was cheerful when I walked in, despite the fact that it was the beginning of the week. I wasn't prepared to take his appearance as a convincing answer, and so kept my hopes down when I went to sit down.

To my surprise, he greeted me. "Morning, Elmo."

I turned to look at him, surprised, as I put down my satchel. "Oh... morning."

He frowned. "Are you annoyed at me?"

"Honestly? I thought you were mad at _me."_

"Why would I be?"

I shrugged. "I just... kind of assumed."

So he wasn't annoyed at me, then. Why had I made such a big deal out of it?

Marui was too busy eyeing me curiously. "Are you alright today?"

He reached out a hand to pull the same stunt he had a small while ago, but I quickly caught his hand and lowered it back down to his side. Marui was convinced that I was not alright, but it was better than receiving stares from people (and secret fans). In fact, I received a few curious and cautioned stairs from boys and girls respectively.

I took my hand back. "Fine. Just fine."

Marui grinned, and then leaned back in his seat. "Whatever you say."

* * *

I wasn't in the best mood for the rest of the week. I was distracted and tired, pushing on through school with my head in a daze. No one asked why—not even Marui.

That much surprised me. But I guess I shouldn't have been. I warned my hopes not to get too high, and he had no business in wondering anyway.

Maybe I thought that way because Marui was the complete opposite to me. He was the opposite to me. He was in a totally cheery mood for the whole week, whereas I had given up trying. If I were a self-piteous wimp, I would have said that Marui thrived off my depression. But knowing full well that the world didn't revolve around me, I guess that something good must have happened to him. A recent win in tennis, maybe? A study accomplishment?

I didn't find out why he was so chirpy until Friday.

* * *

On Friday morning, Marui came in with a wide grin on his face. I blinked, wondering why he looked so happy. He sat down, shot a cheery grin in my direction and said, "Good morning, Elmo."

"Morning... I think..."

"Have you purchased _LIT _yet? The results come out just this morning."

We hadn't talked about _LIT_'s competition yet until now. Regardless of that, it wasn't such a hot topic for me. It was my own cowardice that made me not send in my manuscript. I was afraid to be judged, I assumed over the years. I didn't want to see what stories were in there, read them, and nitpick at things I didn't like, because I had no right to. "No." I said.

"Are you going to?"

"Maybe. I don't think so."

"Maybe or you don't think so?"

His cheeriness prevented me from frowning. It was refreshing to see him so chirpy this early in the morning. "I don't think so."

Marui looked thoughtful. "Hey, are you doing anything after school?"

I assumed he moved on from the topic. "I don't think so. No. Why?"

"I don't think so or no?"

"Marui."

He grinned. "I want to show you something quickly before you leave. I could do for a delay to tennis practice."

"Sure, I guess." I said. It wasn't like I had any other life to attend to. "What do you want to show me?"

"That's a surprise." He was with a wink. He flashed me a grin when I didn't look convinced. "Aw, come on, don't look at me like that. I promise you'll enjoy it. Just wait in the classroom after school, alright? I gotta find Jackal first and tell him that I'll be late for practice."

"Why not just ask this guy?" I asked, poking Niou, who was sleeping on the desk, in the back. He didn't stir, but even Marui could tell that Niou's ears were keen. "He's on the tennis team, too, isn't it?"

"He is. But I don't trust him with my messages. Eh, Niou?"

There came a muffled agreement. Or it might have been an insult.

Marui grinned. "So? Wait for me after school?"

"Sure. I guess."

"Sure or you guess?"

I gave him a look. He laughed.

* * *

As soon as class ended for the day, Marui flashed a peace sign in my direction—a reminder to stay put. "Ten minutes," he said, "and I'll be back."

I nodded, and he vanished out of the classroom in search of a message. I took my time in packing up my books, perhaps hoping that he would walk through the door the moment I finished.

He didn't.

I checked the clock on my phone. Ten minutes had gone by already, and still no sign of Marui. Maybe if I waited a bit longer, he would turn up.

He didn't.

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. He still didn't appear.

I gave way to a frown. Despite what his appearance and carefree attitude implied, I didn't take Marui for the unreliable type.

But ten minutes were up. So were twenty. So were forty.

Curiosity and anxiety gnawed at me. What did he want to show me?

I didn't know. I didn't stay to find out.

Anything I might have felt for him left me as I walked home that afternoon.

* * *

Naturally, with _LIT_'s competition off, there wasn't much I could do with my spare time at home. I could optimize Perceptions for next year, or give up trying, just like all my other attempts. Even petition for Marui's help didn't motivate me to keep trying. I didn't expect inspiration would come to me while I was in this kind of mood.

The rain outside was further encouragement that I should just give up on today and find the sun tomorrow instead. It seemed to be the life I lived by anyway. Here I was, on a rainy Friday afternoon, with more free time than I'd asked for. My homework was done, for once, and summer was rapidly approaching.

It might have been too much to expect for a turnaround in my life. Even with Marui.

At least, that was what I thought until my quiet life was interrupted.

It was the ring of a doorbell. I looked at the clock, and saw that it was only five. I didn't have high hopes for who could want to come over on a miserable day at such a time.

But no matter what I felt, I was forced to get up off my bed when the visitor kept ringing the bell. My guess was that mom wasn't going to answer for me. Around this time, she was probably in the middle of an afternoon nap, and when she took one of those, she didn't wake up until she was refreshed or until the music on her iPod stopped playing. That always took a while, so there was no point in waiting.

I went down the staircase and opened the door.

Marui was standing there in the rain, water dripping from the tips of his hair. Something was under his arm, and a wide, cheesy grin was on his face. "Sorry, practice ran over time."

I shut the door.

Pity he caught it in his foot. "Nope. I'm not letting this slide. Not this time."

"Neither am I." Why did I even bother believing that he would be back in ten minutes? "Now go home."

"I am home."

"No you're not." I tried pushing the door shut on his foot, but years of spending my free time writing on the computer proved nothing for my physical fitness. Marui easily pushed the door open and invited himself inside, as if he lived here for real. I had no choice but to shut the door behind him, annoyed for appear at all. I would have preferred him not coming at all. "You're dripping all over my floor."

"It's okay. You can mop it up." He grinned at me. "Come on. I have something I want to show you."

He beckoned me over.

I looked at him, unimpressed. "I'm not falling for that."

"It was worth a shot."

"Look, you should just go home. I was stupid for even letting you try."

"Actually, you weren't." He said. Despite the evident annoyance in my voice, the excitement in his face was still raring to go. He took out something from underneath his arm, and honestly, with the deal he was making about it, I thought it was something big. Something that somehow made a hopeful impression on me.

In the back of my mind, my subconscious told me it wouldn't last.

It took a lot of effort to ignore it and convince myself to give him one last chance.

"Here." He said, putting something into my hands.

I looked at it.

My subconscious was right. My excitement didn't last; it faltered. Why did I even bother trying?

_"LIT." _I said, my voice void of emotion. My fingers trailed across the shiny front of the magazine, smearing droplets of water. This was the magazine that my story might have been published in, had I not chickened out—the story that I might have won a place, had I entered. I looked at the magazine, and then at Marui. "I thought I told you I don't want to see the results."

"Oh, you will." He said, nodding encouragingly at the magazine. "Just open it the results page."

"Why?" I said sarcastically, my aggravation starting to reach its final straw. Why it hadn't already, I wasn't sure. Maybe I was saving the hope that I tried to banish so many times. It just kept coming back. "It's not like a published my story in here."

"You didn't. But I did."

"You _what?"_

In the incredulous, heart-beating silence that should have followed my raised exchange with Marui, I heard my mother's voice from upstairs ask, "Honey, what was that?"

I threw a glance back up the stairs. "Nothing; it's just the cat! Go back to sleep!"

There was a pause. When I safely assumed that my mom had plugged her ears back up again, I turned to Marui, panic and frustration starting to take hold.

"I said I didn't want it published, didn't I?" My voice was far quieter than before. "And it wasn't just mine; it was yours, too! Why did you send it in? What—?"

"Maiko! Just calm down for a second!"

Naturally, I was frantic. But what he called me caught my attention. I settled into silence.

"Yikes." He said, catching his breath, as if calling me by my name had taken something out of him. "Open the magazine."

I looked down at the magazine, feeling a hideous lump in my throat as I turned to the first page.

"Open it to the sticky."

It was hardly a sticky note anymore, I discovered. It had been soaked through by the rain and lay in tatters from where it stuck out in the magazine. I spared Marui a last glance, praying that something would amaze me, before opening to the note. I was greeted with the results page of the competition. The first thing to meet mye eyes was the first paragraph, which yammered on about all the wonderful entries, and that while only ten places and three highly commended awards were available to be given out, everyone was to be congratulated. I didn't care to read the rest.

I scanned down the place list, a tension building my stomach. But as I expected—or should have, at the very least—there was no Perceptions by Arakawa Maiko and Marui Bunta on the top ten list.

I lowered the magazine, feeling dazed. Those who had won must have been writing for longer than I had, or were just were more talented than me, plain and simple. No hard feelings; I could just look for the sun again tomorrow.

And yet, I couldn't suppress the tiniest disappointment. Maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised, after all. I was just fifteen. Just a high school freshman.

I looked at Marui. "There's nothing here."

"Well obviously. You look at the top ten list, right?" He leaned in to search the page for something else. He was either completely oblivious or completely comfortable with the fact that his face was barely inches from my flushed one.

_'Get over him?' As if._

His eyes might have been on the page. But might weren't until his face lit up, and his index finger tapped a spot on the page. When I jerked back into reality, I looked to where he was pointing. "Here it is."

It was the highly commented section. Out of the three authors and stories listed, the top two were unfamiliar.

The third, however, was a ten thousand yen prize for Perceptions, by Arakawa Maiko.

Then it had a page reference to where it was in the book.

"Mother of God..."

"See? What did I tell you?"

Was it an accomplishment? It was far too much to have expected to be in the top ten. But I guess it was almost too much to be in the highly commended, too, considering that these results were a select cohort out of literature fans in the entire Kanagawa region. It was an honor, really.

But, then again, I noted guiltily, I didn't do it alone. Marui had been a heavy contribution to the piece (after all, he served the basis for it), and yet, his name wasn't printed next to mine. He had previously vowed to merge our names or come up with a pen name, but he hadn't put it into practice. He just used my name.

"Your name isn't here." I said.

He blinked. "Huh? You were the one that wrote it."

"You did most of the work. You made it this." I turned the book around the show him and pointed at the highly commended section. "You deserve half the acknowledgment, if not more."

"Aw, that was nothing."

"Marui. At least... take half the pay or something."

He considered this. "I guess I could use it to pay Jackal back."

"Good. As soon as I get the money, I'll give you half. But..." I was still in doubt. Marui had gotten my hopes up and let them down more times than I could count, and that annoyed me. But then again, I'd also let myself down. If not for Marui, I would have made it into _LIT. _I wouldn't have even gotten a highly commented, nor would I have been standing here with him now. "Are you sure there's nothing else you want? You went all out for this."

There was a moment silence. In it, a gradual grin spread across his face. "Well, I guess there's one thing." He said. I waited for him to go on, and when he noticed this, he winked. "Go out with me?"

It took longer than I expected for the words to sink in, and for my face to go scarlet. "Wh-_what?"_

"Aw, come in. It can be like the story. " Marui went on, satisfied by my reaction. "You based pretty much the whole story off our relationship, so why don't we have a cheesy happy ending ourselves? You can accept it as a challenge, if you want, like Shiraga did. Or you could consider it payback for all the times you never noticed my hints. Or just payback for the fact that I helped you with the story. Or that you've secretly fallen in love with me."

Was I really that transparent?

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Really? Your face tells me otherwise."

The scarlet turned to a deep shade of crimson.

"In my defense, I thought you were joking ever single time."

"Hah! That's so cruel! Is it really that hard to take me seriously?"

I thought so.

"You look so shocked." He teased. "Here—lemme ease that for you."

He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my cheek. I dropped the magazine at the abruptness of the gesture, and it might have landed on his toes if he hadn't laughed back, laughing jovially all the while. My face felt like it was on fire. He leaned forward and pinched my cheeks—a gesture that I wasn't altogether fond of when a family member did it, but one that didn't annoy me when Marui did it—where he'd kissed me.

"Guess it did the opposite." He said, his grin written perhaps permanently on his face. "Here. I want to show you something more."

He picked up the magazine, and flipped to a page he seemed to have memorized. The he turned it around to show me. "Read it from the start."

Once I'd managed to calm down, I hesitantly did as I was told. "Ideas and opinions are the two things that—"

Marui was quick to stop me. "That's not the beginning. I meant the beginning of the page."

I gave him a funny look, but his dubiously encouraging face was enough to make me turn back to the text and read from the top this time. "Entry number nine: Perceptions, by Arakawa Maiko." I said mischievously.

He wasn't deterred. His face told me to keep reading.

"Recently I've become aware of the power of human obsession. Perhaps, to others, it's more than what I see it as. But the act of writing simply encourages one to share his or her experiences with the world. Is that not what we write for?

"I don't believe there a moral to this story exists. But maybe a perception change will. After all, all cats are grey in the dark. People don't have names until we give them one..."

I didn't remember putting that in, and I didn't remember this being on Marui's document, either. The only place I remembered hearing it was from Niou. Could it have been that Niou wanted a say in the story, too?

I decided to keep reading.

"Acknowledgments to a little bit of an obsessor of my own..." It was then that I did a double take. My eyes snapped up to Marui, who was finding it hard to stifle a laugh. "You wrote _that?_

"Aw, you have to admit. It's cute. Like you and me." He grinned. "Together. All you have to do is say okay."

It might have been the most glorious thing in my life in a long time: winning a competition, and being asked out by someone who attracted me. Somehow. It made even summer, which I loved so dearly, seem poor in comparison.

"Okay." I said. Marui grinned and started to lean. This time, when I realized he was aiming for my lips, I did a quick double take and leaned out of the way. "H-hey! Not yet!"

He blinked, tilting his head at me, and then smiled this time. Not grinned. "It was worth a shot."

Indeed.

"How about this instead?" He held out his arms, and before I could run away, he caught him in a wet embrace. The water from his clothes was already soaking into mine, and it chilled the warmth I had from when I was dry.

"Get off! You're cold, and wet!"

"Warm..."

The atmosphere—and the embrace—broke as a rumble of an oncoming summer storm brought me back to reality. It might not have been strong enough to rain on my parade (at least, not anymore), but it might certainly rain on Marui's on his way home. "Hey. You should go. You'll get drenched on your way home."

Our eyes fell the puddle that Marui created at our feet.

"Mind if I borrow a towel first?" He asked.

"You'll get wet when you go out anyway."

He grinned. "I won't need to. You can drive me."

* * *

It might have been fair to say that mom was shocked when she woke up and came downstairs to find two teenagers. One of them was the one she gave birth to—me, who was drying Marui's hair as he dried off his clothes. The other was Marui, who introduced himself to my mom as my 'boyfriend.' He might have sneezed all over her, had he not been polite enough to turn around and cover his mouth.

I tried not to sigh at the way he introduced himself, but mom didn't seem bothered. If anything, I would have said she was charmed. A charmed mother. Right.

Maybe she was just happy for me—or by the fact that I had more friends than Tumblr, Facebook and the internet in general. Because when she drove Marui back home to where he lived, she seemed in a much better mood than she usually woke up with.

Reality really was a misleading thing.

* * *

When I checked Facebook that night, Marui had updated his status.

**Marui Bunta: **I have a girlfriend.

There were already several replies.

**Niou Masaharu: **Finally.

**Yukimura Seiichi: **I'm so heartbroken, Marui-sama... Ah, the doctors say I might not live another day... Is this really what the world has come to?

**Jackal Kuwahara: **I have to say this because I'm curious. Is this a joke?

**Marui Bunta: **I don't understand. How did I make friends with any of you? She's real, she's cute, and she's a genius, just like me.

**Kirihara Akaya: **Bah! You're so cruel, downgrading her to your level! Just what _is_ your girlfriend's name?

**Marui Bunta: **Sheesh! As if I would tell you her real name. My girlfriend is Elmo!

**Jackal Kuwahara: **Marui, are you serious? Have you really stopped that low? Why would you even name your girlfriend after a furry red creature that was created for children in another country? That's just... man, you're insensitive.

**Kirihara Akaya: **Wait. Isn't Elmo a guy? So that means...

I closed down the window, fighting the oncoming laughter. Marui would have a ball for as long as this would go on.

* * *

"Took you long enough."

I stared up from Marui's notebook that I had been copying my notes into. Now that _LIT_'s competition was off, there wasn't really an excuse for Facebook, Tumblr and Marui to distract me anymore. Besides, Marui was home sick today, having been somewhat delicate to the cold, wet weather that Kanagawa was currently burdened with. Apparently he caught colds often.

"Really." I said, ending the conversation.

As usual, Niou didn't give up. "He dropped so many hints, and yet he didn't get a response from you until the end. He wouldn't shut up for days when you even considered marrying him."

I reddened. "Look. I though he was joking. I thought he was like that to every girl."

"Not likely. Otherwise there would be more girls that were falsely lulled into believing that he had a crush on them." Niou said.

"That's great, Niou. Really. Please leave me alone."

Niou looked at my notebook. "Is that due today?"

"No, it's Marui's. He asked me to copy notes for him. For every subject."

"I can see where this relationship is headed." Niou said. I ignored him. "Say. Did you see the uproar on Facebook last night?"

_If you mean about his friend asking if he was gay, yes. I saw that._

"Everything's on Facebook, Niou."

"Marui changed his status. He says he's going out with you." Niou said. "You should have seen the threats on his fan club. Actually, while we're on the subject, he asked me to shut it down. So you'll be getting more abuse in daily life as opposed to online."

"Somehow, I think I'd prefer that." I said, not bothering to ask how Niou had gotten rid of hit. He had gotten in trouble for hacking the school network once; that was hint enough. "Girls in high school aren't that bad, anyway. You grow out of fan girling once you graduate middle school.

"How would you know? Could it be that group of girls you were hustled by this morning?"

It had only been a small group of girls: perhaps representatives, or just the last lingering group of fan girls. Considering Rikkai was an elevator school, most kids automatically went up through the grades. That was probably why Marui was still so popular with everyone.

"I wasn't hustled by them." I said. "They were just curious."

"Right. I believe you."

"I never expected you to." I said. Then I went back to copying notes.

"So are you guys on kissing terms yet?"

I kicked Niou's chair, which fell out underneath him. Niou, however, just grabbed onto my desk to balance himself. He grinned at my red face. Curse a tennis player's balance and reflex. "None of your business." I said, trying not to think about Friday. Niou wasn't totally right, anyway. It was kind of one-sided at the moment.

I fought a smile.

Just at the moment.

"I'll take that as a yes." He drawled.

_- fin_

* * *

**- Princo & Ribbon. **14th July, '12. **-**

_Want to see more from us? Please visit our website via the link on our profile!_


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